


Sanguine

by SnowWolf5552



Series: Original Works [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Canonical Character Death, Dark, Death, F/M, Horror, Monsters, Murder, Mystery, Prompt Fill, References to Supernatural (TV), Short, Stabbing, Supernatural Elements, based on a prompt, shit goes to 0 to 100 real fast, very dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-20
Updated: 2017-04-20
Packaged: 2018-10-21 03:48:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10677054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowWolf5552/pseuds/SnowWolf5552
Summary: It's weird when Sam Vale wakes up covered in blood. It gets weirder when her former coworkers are found murdered at the party she was at the night before. Then, she meets a rather odd detective named Damion Boulder.Turns out, he's no ordinary detective.





	Sanguine

Terror. Disgust.

I don't really know.

It's a kind of a toss up when you wake up covered in blood.

It wasn't like I went to sleep covered in blood. It wasn't that time of the month, either. I looked down at myself. I was literally covered head to toe in the goop, from my hair to it even being encrusted under my fingernails.

I sighed, stood up, and did the most logical thing to do. I took a shower. Would you want to be covered in blood the whole day? Do you think someone _wouldn't_  notice?

So, I showered, dressed in actual clothes, and tried not to ponder what exactly had happened. I had gone to a party last night, with only a few ex-coworkers of mine and the only alcohol in sight was wine. However, I had blacked out after only a cup, which wasn't odd; I wasn't renown for being able to drink like a fish. That was my friend Marianne. However, I wasn't sure on how I'd gotten home. Maybe Zane drove me home.

I turned on the news as I headed downstairs, moving to make toast.

"...and in other news, there has been a brutal murder at 109 Pine Street last night," the anchor rattled off. My heart stopped - that was where the party had been. "Four people were found dead in very gruesome and rather odd ways," I pivoted, toast in hand, to see her shiver. "We have some pictures; viewer discretion is advised,"

My four former coworkers and friends were dead. Alex had her chest torn open and gore splattered the walls. Mary had one butcher knife through the throat and another in her stomach. Zane had no head, but I recognized what he had worn at the party, including his silver flower brooch. Ryan was a slab of tenderized meat, except his head, which had been cut off and hung on the ceiling fan.

I stared at the screen in horror and shock, then leaned over to the side and threw up. I dropped my toast, appetite understandably vanishing. I swallowed and quickly threw on some socks and shoes before all but running from my house. I needed to find out how and why this had happened - and why I had woken up covered in blood.

* * *

I shoved my hands in my pockets as I loitered at the edge of the crime scene. A handful of other people also watched, but they were slowly dwindling away. I could see a couple of forensic scientists taking pictures of streaks of blood on the grass and patio outside.

I winced at it as a gentle-looking man with soft eyes wearing a brown duster approached me. "Did you know them?" He asked. I gave a jerky nod, blinking back tears.

"I was supposed to go to this party," I told him. "But I decided to go to sleep early, because I had a load of work to do, like finding a new job," My voice cracked and he patted my shoulder.

"Was there anything odd going on at the house?" He prodded. "Or did one of your friends have a vengeful ex or something?" It was half-joking, I could tell, so I smiled shakily at him.

"Not that I know of," I replied. "Mary never found anyone for her, and Alex was in a committed relationship with Zane - the one that has his head missing," My voice cracked again. "Ryan was trying to get me to date him, but I... I never wanted a relationship," I wiped away my eyes, cleared my throat, and steadied myself. The man looked at me sympathetically.

"I'm sorry. If you can think of anything else, this is my number," he handed me a small, white card. I looked at it as he walked away, almost morbidly curious about who he was. The curling font displayed his name, number, work address, and occupation.

 _Damion Boulder_  
_Private Investigator_  
_(580)-409-2101_  
_2103 East James Road_

I looked back up at his retreating figure, baffled as to why a _private investigator_  would be looking into a crime scene by himself.

Unless... someone hired him.

I went home, brooding and wondering about Mister Boulder and the blood and the odd deaths of my friends. I fell asleep with it on my mind.

* * *

Over the course of the next week, it was difficult to do much, considering the fact my sleep was wrought with confusing nightmares and memories I never had. One of these memory-dreams was about the night of the party, but it happened in only segments. I remembered a certain one with such clarity it was astonishing, as most of my dreams faded within a few days of dreaming them.

_"C'mon, Sam," Alex wheedled me, waving an Ouija board. I saw Ryan glancing at me._

_"Yeah, Sam," Zane said, smirking. "Relax for a while. You've been working way too hard trying to find more work,"_

_"I agree," Mary said cheerily. "What say you, Ryan?" The man in question glanced nervously in between all of us, before concurring with the others._

_"Fine," I grumbled, crossing my arms. "But if a ghost or demon or whatever kills all of us, it's not my fault," Alex beamed at me and we quickly set up a table to play with the stupid board._

_Zane plugged in a lamp nearby to make sure that if the power went out, we'd know. We all placed our hands on the planchette, and before long, Alex began to ask the board questions._

_"Is anyone there?" She asked to open air. The wooden piece began to move, scraping over to the YES that was engraved on the wood. "Oh my God," she whispered, eyes huge. "Is anyone moving that?"_

_I shook my head. Mary, Zane, and Ryan followed after me. "Who are you?" Mary inquired. "When were you born?"_

_The board quickly spelled out BEAUFORT and 1797 AD. I could feel the air shudder around me as the questions continued. ("Are you sane?" YES "When did you die?" BY YOUR CALENDAR, 1823 AD "Are you still human?" NO)_

_Then Zane asked, "Will you hurt us?" There was a moment of quiet, then YES. GOOD BYE. Alex panicked and Mary let out a scream of terror._

_I saw a dark figure lurking behind Alex, far taller than any modern human, and I looked up at it in terror. Blood dripped from pale lips and a raw, bloody throat smiled down at me. It leaped over Alex straight at me and then_  -

I woke up screaming, sweating straight through my nightgown. My eyes darted around the room of their own accord. My cat, Button, went sprawling from the bed, meowing loudly in protest.

I sucked in a shaky breath and picked up the small black cat, holding her close as I petted her. Before long, she settled into my arms and was dozing off. Soon after, I was asleep too, but it was luckily no longer nightmares or even dreams. Just sleep.

* * *

I stood outside a decrepit building that proudly flaunted _Boulder's Private Investigation_ / in faded letters. I blinked in confusion, wondering how old this building (and Mister Boulder) really was. Hesitantly, I opened the door and walked in.

It was far smaller inside. A front desk with no secretary and a lonely hallway with only one office with its lights on. I glanced a security camera up in a corner of the room, before heading down the hall. I saw the door at the end, the only occupied one, had _Boulder, P.I._  I sighed loudly and knocked on the door.

The door swung open to show one Damion Boulder, who looked like he'd fallen asleep on his desk. I choked back a chortle and bit my lip to keep from smiling as he said: "Ah... uh..." He trailed off, and then I remembered he didn't know my name.

"Samantha Vale," I introduced myself. "But everyone calls me Sam," He gave me an awkward smile.

"Miss Vale," the man said instead. "Welcome to my agency," I resisted raising my brow as he allowed me into the room. "I imagine you remembered something about the night of the murders?" He asked the question gently, but by now, I had steeled myself to the nightmares and gore.

"I had lied when I first met you," I confessed after we had both sat down. "I was at the party that night. What I'm going to tell you may sound rather odd," I took a deep breath and began my tale. I told him about the day after the murders when I'd woken up in blood in my bed to the nightmarish dreams.

"But they don't feel like dreams," I quickly added. "Or nightmares. They feel... like memories," I paused, struggling to find the words. "Like I've forgotten something," I ended lamely. Boulder was rubbing his chin, a pensive expression on his face.

"I think I understand," he said slowly. "In truth, I'm not exactly just a private eye," Boulder gave me a grin. "I'm a tracker of the supernatural and paranormal. I believe your friends have been killed by a werewolf - or worse, a demon or angry spirit,"

I stared at him blankly. "What?" I croaked. "Like, vampires are real? Werewolves? _Demons?!_ " He handed me a paper bag, sighing.

"It must be a terrible shock to find out your friends have been brutally murdered by a beast from legend," Boulder told me kindly as I used said bag to breathe, knowing the general procedure. "But it's true. I'm not insane, you aren't insane, and I think I know why you had blacked out,"

I lifted my head after he said that, morbidly curious? "Why?" I wondered, voice raspy. His dark green eyes glittered and he smiled.

"You are either a werewolf," he said calmly. "Or a demon or spirit possessed you, killing your friends," he paused. "However, from what you've told me of your dreams, the latter two are more likely," Boulder took the bag from me when I handed it back to him. "An Ouija board sounds more like a spirit, but demons aren't choosy about how they spill blood,"

He continued to babble on while I stared at the desk. _How has my life come to this?_  I thought desperately, running a hand through my blonde hair.

"We're going to need the Ouija board," he finally told me. I nodded slowly. "I should be able to get it out of the police station if they've gathered it as evidence. Then, we need to go to the house and burn it,"

I swallowed and laced my fingers together. Then, I lifted my head and looked him in the eyes. "What do I need to do?" Boulder merely gave me a smile and told me.

* * *

Two weeks later, Boulder and I walked into the house where the murder had taken place. The blood was still stained into the wood even though the bodies had been taken away. Things were still haphazardly thrown around the room.

I swallowed as he laid the Ouija board on the table, which he'd managed to get from Evidence at the police station. He poured salt and accelerant over it, lit a match, and watched it burn. I stared into the flames as Boulder moved over to me. "That should end the spirit tied to it," he told me. "There is one more thing we must do, though,"

Boulder grabbed me and pulled me close, smirking. A pinch formed in my side before agony and confusion slammed into me. I let out a gasp of pain and stared him in the face. "What?" I managed to get out as he dropped me. Shock flared through my entire being.

He poured the rest of the accelerant over and around the fire, setting the table alight. He looked down at me with an almost apologetic look on his face. "Sorry," he said, shrugging. "I couldn't have any witnesses to what happened. It's just business," The creature looked down at me, and then he grew three feet, with blood dripping down pale lips and a raw, bloody throat smiling down at me.

It seemed to disappear into the air, leaving behind Boulder's real body, gaunt and lifeless, a mere husk compared to when I had seen him. I sucked in a breath, held my would and began to crawl away. I managed to get to the couch to stand and hobbled to the back door, which was in the kitchen.

I called 911 and let them know what happened. Unfortunately, it was too late. I felt the blood fill my lungs and drip from my lips as I sat next to a tree in the backyard. I coughed wetly as I dropped the phone.

 _"Ma'am? Ma'am?"_ The concerned operator's voice flitted over my senses. _"Are you still there?"_ I simply leaned against the tree and stared into the flames.

I felt acid in my blood and in my bones as I peeled away from my body. I looked down at my ethereal form and smiled savagely. I turned back to the fire as my physical body died and the cell phone clicked off. I saw four other spirits, pale and bloody approach me; Alex's ribs were torn open, exposing a still heart and shriveled lungs. Mary had twin butcher knives in her body. Zane still had no head, but his flower brooch was blood splattered. Ryan was covered head to toe in blood, his head haphazardly sewn onto his neck.

We had unfinished business to complete.

**Author's Note:**

> Like it? Hate it? Want me to write another chapter? Tell me, if you like.


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